


stop motion

by berriesandchampange



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean and Mental Health Issues, Destiel - Freeform, M/M, Short & Sweet, Supernatural AU - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2018-05-28 06:27:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6318256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/berriesandchampange/pseuds/berriesandchampange
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean had never been quite right in the head. Things had just seemed to pass him by, and sometimes he wanted everything to slow down, to just slow down. Maybe trauma had been something to do with it, a cause, a factor, something, but he had never gone to a doctor or told a soul about it because they wouldn’t listen, they would just think he was a person to avoid when they walked by on the street, to keep your eyes down and hands pulled close.</p>
            </blockquote>





	stop motion

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm not proud of this one, but I'm putting it here anyway. I wrote it for the English assignment and it wasn't quite right. idk enjoy.

Dean had never been quite right in the head. Things had just seemed to pass him by, and sometimes he wanted everything to slow down, to just slow down. Maybe trauma had been something to do with it, a cause, a factor, something, but he had never gone to a doctor or told a soul about it because they wouldn’t listen, they would just think he was a person to avoid when they walked by on the street, to keep your eyes down and hands pulled close.

Growing up and parties and new people and secrets and eye contact across the room and flashing lights and semi drunken kissing and promises and red cups and still being there the next morning and diners and kissing and reaching and grabbing and taking and kisses under the moon and loving and loving and loving.

Dean had never met somebody like Cas. All sugar on the outside and golden honey on the inside, all flowing and pulling you in sticky. They had met and never pulled apart, buying a small flat together after a few months of everything.

Aging, potted plants and no more parties and studying and graduating and smiling and falling and milk spilled over the kitchen tiles and world spinning away and crying and hospitals and white hallways and praying and praying and praying.

Cancer was a horrible thing. Cas had been healthy one day, and dying in hospital the next. He wasn’t the same. He was now paper pulled thin over bones like pins and smiles milky thin. Dean missed him.

Flowers and cards and visiting and pretending and living and hoping and heart monitors and bright lights and beeeeeeeeep and being pushed by white coats all around and 3:57 and being alone, being so goddamn alone.

Cas hadn’t made to four o'clock and Dean pretended he had. He was there, next to him, alive. “Hey Cas” “Hey Dean” that wasn’t right, he couldn’t do Cas’s voice quite right. Maybe he was forgetting already no,no,no.

Scuffed work boots and tan trench coats and golden whiskey and throwing up and leftover takeout and loneliness and grieving and forgetting and finding and looking looking looking and losing and giving up and crying and still looking, still searching and crying, so much crying, and pillows that smell too much like him and crying and looking and crying and looking and giving in. imploding. Dean had imploded.

Wandering and not looking as you ran across the street and cars and horns and crying and tears on my face whose are they wait i'm crying why am i crying and fading and darkness and hands on my body and death.

Dean wasn’t so alone anymore.


End file.
